


Run That Race

by PixelEm



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies), Cars 3, Pixar - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Forgiveness, Friendship, Friendship/Love, General, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jackson Storm tries to apologize, Jackson Storm tries to be a Good Guy, Lightning is the best surrogate dad, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Language, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Protectiveness, The first one is full of angst, Thirty-Something Lightning McQueen, Various Genres, just a warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21822955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelEm/pseuds/PixelEm
Summary: A series of oneshots that takes a look into the lives of Lightning McQueen, Cruz Ramirez, and the many cars that populate their lives.Timeline placement varies. Originally posted on Fanfiction.net.
Relationships: Cruz Ramirez & Jackson Storm, Lightning McQueen & Bobby Swift & Cal Weathers, Lightning McQueen & Cruz Ramirez, Lightning McQueen & Tow Mater, Sally Carrera/Lightning McQueen
Kudos: 20





	1. The Back of the Ambulance

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I wrote these oneshots back in 2017, a little after Cars 3 first came out, back on Fanfiction.net. Most of these stories were requests on Tumblr (before I left Tumblr, that is...), and I had loads of fun writing and sharing them with everyone over there. I don't know if I'll ever return to actively writing Cars stories, but if y'all are interested, then I'll absolutely consider adding to this series.
> 
> With all that said, please enjoy!

“…You’re gonna be okay, I know you’ll be okay. You’ll be fine… We’re gonna get you some help… They’ll fix you up… I know it…”

Sally kept repeating it – more to herself than to McQueen. She sat next to him, in the back of a wailing ambulance, speeding away from the racetrack towards the nearest hospital. Just a mere half an hour ago she’d watched perhaps the most horrifying thing happen to him – he’d spun out, slammed into the wall, then into the pavement, _over and over and over again_ – and she’d been completely powerless to stop it.

Nurses and ambulances had been on the scene in an instant, pulling up next to McQueen’s motionless body and checking the severity of his injuries. Sally, of course, had sped onto the track – she’d just _had_ to get to him – just as Mater, Luigi, Guido, and the others did the same. She’d almost cried when she made it to his side – both from seeing her boyfriend be torn apart, and from the security cars who’d immediately pushed her away so the nurses could do their jobs.

They’d soon had him on a stretcher, ready to load him onto the approaching ambulance. Then, when one of the nurses asked her and the rest of his team if one of them wanted to ride with him, she’d practically thrown herself into the back of the truck.

She _needed_ to be with him. She needed it just as she needed oil and gas to stay alive.

Looking at him now, Sally felt the urge to scream rising up yet again. Sharp dents and cuts covered McQueen’s entire frame, a few of them still bleeding dark oil. Much of his paint had been scraped clean off upon impact, and his spoiler had been torn off, still hanging on by a sliver of metal. His eyes were shut, and the only indication that he was even alive was the shallow puffs of breath coming from his mouth. The nurses had stuck an IV in his side right before they’d taken off. As the ambulance went over speed bumps and made sharp turns Sally fought the instinct to reach out and keep the stupid needle in place with her own tires; she was _just so sure_ it was going to be ripped out somehow…

Sally kept her tire wrapped around McQueen’s, squeezing it hard whenever she needed to reassure herself. Half the time she expected him to react to it – he’d jolt awake, go “Ow”, look at her and say “Whoa, watch it, that hurts”. And damn her if she didn’t _want_ him to react – she wanted something, _anything_ that told her that he was still here… with _her_ –

“Y-You… you _are_ here… You can hear me, can’t you?” she said, her voice a shaky whisper, “You’re… you’re gonna be fine, Stickers… I’m sure of it… They’ll fix you up… You’ll be okay… Okay?”

Still no reaction. Of course.

Sally bit her lip and pulled her tire away from McQueen, pushing the blinds away from the ambulance window. She leaned forwards, looked at the outside world. She spied a few tall, spotless buildings in the city ahead. She quietly prayed to the Manufacturer that at least one of those was the hospital.

Then she heard something that made her entire frame freeze over.

“…S-S…S-Sal…?”

It was small, weak, almost inaudible – and yet she still heard it.

Her mouth feeling like sandpaper, Sally turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

He was still there. Still broken. But he’d _opened his eyes_ – just by a little bit. He was staring at her. Looking right at her between his slit windshields, the whites of his eyes glassy and tinged with red.

Sally stared right back, swallowing hard. She felt that familiar pressure build behind her eyes as she looked him over, took in his sorry state yet again. She drove forwards a centimeter.

“S-Stickers– ?”

As quickly as he’d come back to her, he left again. He shut his eyes, letting out a ragged, groaning breath as he did so. Sally sat frozen for a few seconds before gripping his tire again, giving it a light jostle. Nothing. Not even a twitch. He only lied there, only breathing to show how alive he was.

Sally couldn’t take her eyes off of McQueen, even as her eyes filled with tears and a sob filled her throat.

“…You… are… going… to…. be… _fine_ …”

**This story was a request from Tumblr and Fanfiction.net user Tin Lizzies.**


	2. End of an Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc and Smokey have a very important talk before separating forever.

“You sure you wanna go back? That was a pretty bad crash, Hud– ”

Doc rolled his eyes, cutting off his friend with a small groan as they drove along. “Smokey,” he snapped, “I know I’m fine. Just… look at me.” He gestured towards himself, raising an eyebrow in Smokey’s direction. “Do I still look smashed up to you?”

Smokey blinked. “Uh…”

“No, I don’t.” Doc finished for him. “They have no reason to refuse to let me race again. I’m fine now.” With that, he turned away from Smokey and kept his eyes on the road ahead.

Smokey took a moment to look his friend up and down, taking extra time to read and reread those stickers of his, and let out a silent sigh.

“…Now, Hud…” he said, “…I wasn’t sayin’ they ain’t gunna let you race again. I’m just sayin’ that…”

He paused then, to look at Doc’s frame yet again. He blinked, and in an instant he saw _them_ again – the dents and bruises that’d marked up the Fabulous Hudson Hornet’s body after he’d slipped and tumbled into the sand, crashing into the hard earth with little chance to control it –

Smokey swallowed hard before continuing, “…I’m just sayin that… I dun’t think you could handle another crash like that, Hud. I dun’t think you should risk– ”

“Smokey.”

Smokey had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep himself from groaning. Doc had slipped into _that_ voice, the one that he’d heard all too much from the other car, the one he only used when he thought his friends were spewing infuriating nonsense.

“Smokey.” Doc looked at him again, his eyerims furrowed. “I’m _not_ crashing like that again. I just slipped. I should’ve got it, but I just lost control. That was it. I’ve survived tons of crashes, anyway. _You_ know that.”

“I– Uh– Of course _I_ know that, Hud,” Smokey replied, “I’ve watched every race you’ve done. Of course I’ve seen you crash before. But _this_ crash? That one ain’t just an axel slap, friend, I actually thought you were gonna d– ”

“Well, I’m not dead yet,” Doc said, lifting his cab, “ _No crash_ has killed me yet. And I’m still one of the best races this side of Thomasville. They won’t stop me from racing just because I had a run-in with the sand. They haven’t done it yet, and they won’t do it _now_.”

Smokey bit the inside of his mouth even harder as Doc finished his rant, then looked once more towards the road. He sighed again, shaking his cab as he too looked ahead, spying the dirt track in the distance. He thought about the other times he’d seen Doc argue with him like this; he realized that, just like now, it had been about racing. Racing and crashing and driving away from the track.

“…Okay, I know you’re worried about me, Smokey.” Doc surprised Smokey by softening his tone when he spoke again. “I’d be worried too. But… you know me. I always got back up, even when something unexpected came at me.”

At this, Smokey couldn’t help his creeping smirk. “Oh, yeah. _That_ I know about you.” He raised an eyerim at Doc, chuckling a little. “You remember that rookie from last season? When he tried to push you into that wall?”

He watched his friend for his reaction, and, just as he’d predicted, Doc mirrored his sly grin. “Ah, yes. Never saw my fly-and-roll trick coming, now did he?”

The two friends laughed, which lifted the weight from Smokey’s engine. As long as Hud was happy, he was happy.

~x~

Smokey gasped, his eyes growing as large as hubcaps. All that tension in his tank from his conversation with Doc came rushing straight back as he stared at the series of rookies in front of him, each of them sporting an ugly sneer. He replayed what they’d said mere milliseconds ago – _“You’re HISTORY.”_ – and his engine dropped.

He checked Doc.

He didn’t say anything as he stared down the rookies. His eyes kept darting around to look at each of them, as if he could not believe what he’d just heard – though, more likely, he didn’t _want_ to believe it.

Then Smokey saw Doc’s jaw clench. He saw his eyerims furrow and his tires grip the sand underneath them.

“…Now, Hud… Th-This ain’t what you– ”

But Doc was already speeding away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another one requested by Tin Lizzies.


	3. The Haters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McQueen has some choice words for those who disrespect his apprentice.

McQueen could hear them from his podium. At this point in his crew chief career, he was certain he could’ve heard them even outside the raceway. He’d just rolled up onto the podium and begun adjusting his headset for the day’s race when he heard _them_. Those _rookies_. The same ones his apprentice had been up against during the last race, and the race before, _and_ from even the race before (what the hell were even their names… Danny Something and Mike Joyride, right?).

And, just like all those races before, he heard them chatter about the exact same thing. And, just as he did when he’d heard them before, it took every thread of restraint McQueen had to avoid driving up and slapping them both.

Because they always talked about _her_. His apprentice. His smart, funny, optimistic, absolutely awe-inspiring apprentice Cruz Ramirez.

“Five first-place wins in a row, can you believe it, bro?” Danny said to Mike, gesturing towards the huge screen in the middle of the stadium, currently displaying Cruz’s image as it listed each competitor.

Mike glanced up at Cruz’s smiling face and sneered. “Nah,” he said, shaking his cab, “ _She_ doesn’t deserve it. She just keeps getting lucky. You know she came from some ho-dunk old town? She had nothing until she started working as a trainer!”

Danny nodded firmly, narrowing his eyes at Cruz’s image. “ _Si_. And then McQueen saw _that_ and then thought _that_ would be a good replacement for him?”

Mike gave an exaggerated shudder. “ _Ech_. You remember when she first raced us? Kept starin’ at everyone like they were gonna attack her!”

Danny nodded and pointed at Cruz again. “And still, Lightning McQueen chose her to replace his bumper. A bad choice if _I_ ever saw one…”

“Stickers?”

The familiar voice jolted McQueen’s attention away from the two. He looked to his left, where Sally stood just beside the podium. She stared up at him, one eyerim raised.

“…You alright?” she asked, eyeing McQueen.

McQueen blinked. “Uh… why’re you asking?”

Sally gestured towards his tires. “You look like you’re about to fly off your seat at any second,” she said, “ _And_ you’ve been grinding your teeth and scowling for the past minute.”

“Really?” McQueen said, on instinct running his tongue over his teeth. He quickly shook his cab though, looking forwards again. “N-No, Sal. I’m good. I’m fine. Honest.”

Then Mater, who sat to Sally’s immediate left with his enormous #51 blue Dinoco hat perched atop his roof, drove forwards to look at something beyond McQueen’s podium, and then winced.

“Dad gum…” he muttered.

McQueen tensed. “…What?” he asked him.

Mater pointed. “Jus’ listen tah those nasty fellers! They’s talkin’ ‘bout Cruz over dere!”

Just as McQueen realized what he was talking about, he heard the two again:

“Her only win, in a demolition derby… give me a Dodge Ram _break_ …”

“It would not surprise me if she did not train to race at all, and she only did the Thunder Hollow derby to achieve some sort of trophy… She must know she can’t _really_ win the Piston Cup.”

“Yeah, can’t believe they’re _still_ letting her race. I mean, just– just _look_ at her! There’s nothing special about her!”

“She was _only a trainer_ when she joined… no training for herself, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah… don’t worry, though. This race for sure, we’ll put her in her place…”

“ _Si_. A sorry racer for a sorry team… though it’s hard to tell which is worse than the other…”

“Oh, the girl for sure. Ooh, I can’t wait to whoop her– ”

The final thread snapped.

Ignoring Sally’s ensuing protests, McQueen chucked off his headset, slid off his podium, and made a beeline for the two rookies.

It took one or two seconds for Danny and Mike to realize that he was headed right for them. Once they did, their cocky expressions fell as they both gasped and flinched. Their eyes grew large as hubcaps. Mike swore under his breath, and Danny did the same. They looked all around their surroundings, apparently searching for an escape – like that would’ve helped their predicament.

“Hey! _HEY_!” McQueen thundered, freezing the rookies in their tracks, “What’s goin’ on here? What am I hearing?”

“Ehh… S-Señor Lightning McQueen,” Danny stammered, “What… What did you hear?”

McQueen narrowed his eyes so they became slits. “I think you know…” he hissed.

Mike gulped, then rushed forwards, jabbing his tire at McQueen. “Y-You can’t touch us…” he said, furrowing his eyerims, “We… We can say anything we want about your stupid apprentice! She stole our thunder anyway! We can– !”

“I might not be able to touch you,” McQueen snapped, cutting Mike off, “but I can say _this_.”

McQueen drove forwards, until he was mere inches away from the two rookies. He ground his teeth together before he spoke again.

“…If I hear that crap about Cruz again…” he growled, “If– If you say anything else about her, anything you should regret… I _will hear it_ … and you _will_ regret it. Got that?”

Though Danny rolled his eyes and Mike shot him a sneer, they both nodded and retreated to their respective pit crews. Letting out a huff of finality, McQueen turned back around, preparing to drive back to his own team.

“Mr. McQueen?”

“Whoa– !” McQueen halted, his tires screeching a little.

Cruz stood just in front of him, having returned from preparing back at the garages. She had on a confused expression and, when she saw she had her mentor’s attention, gestured towards the cars behind him.

“…What was going on back there?” she asked.

“Uh…” McQueen said, a sense of awkwardness washing over him, “I, uh… I– I was just– ”

“Wait a minute…” Cruz said then. She lifted her cab to peer over McQueen’s roof. Then she looked back at him, her eyerim raised. “…Were you just talking to _those_ guys? Joyride and Swervez?”

“I…” McQueen gestured backwards with his tire. “I… I just heard them saying– ”

Cruz shut him off with her loud, cackling laugh. “Mr. McQueen,” she snickered, “I hear crap from those guys all the time! Like I’m gonna let it get to me!”

McQueen blinked, his eyes widening with each one. “B-But I thought… I just wanted to– ”

“Oh, stop it, Mr. McQueen,” Cruz said, still laughing as she and McQueen drove to their crew’s pit, “I know how to handle that kind of thing. You didn’t have to defend me.”

McQueen snorted, suddenly bitter. “Hmph. And here I thought I was _helping_ …” he muttered.

Cruz inched forwards a little and looked at his face. Then a wry smile spread across her grill.

“Aw, look at that…” she mocked, “You really _do_ care, old man…”

“Hey, watch it kiddo,” McQueen said back, though he couldn’t help laughing too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was requested by blossomrye4 on Tumblr.


	4. Pranks For That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story's prompt came from the Tumblr user mynamesnotchuck back in 2017.

“…Okay, I know this wasn’t a very smart idea– ”

“Then I’d recommend not doing it! Let’s just back out now, shall we?”

Instead of nodding and agreeing like Bobby hoped he would, Cal’s face lit up with a smirk.

“ _But_ ,” he continued, giving the pair of scissors he had his tire on a light tap, “it would be a shame if we didn’t carry it out…”

Bobby groaned and rolled his eyes. “I knew you were going to say that….” he groused. He glanced at the thin rope Cal was prepared to cut, looked up its length; it had been threaded loosely through the suspensions in Bobby’s garage, and extended past the door and into the opposite side’s garages, pulled taut to hold the tarp attached to the garage’s ceiling in place.

Cal rolled forwards an inch and looked out. “Nope,” he said, shaking his cab, “He’s still not here.”

Bobby cringed. “Cal, do you…? Do you really think we should do this?”

“YES!” Cal practically yelled, “You know how many pranks he’s pulled on me this season!? Heck, Bobby, _you_ were a part of some of them!”

“Yes, I am well aware of that, but…” Bobby side-eyed the rope, his upper lip curling. “…Don’t you think we should wait a while for this one?”

“And just _why_ do _you_ think that?”  
“Well, ‘cause, just– Cal, we’re _just about to start the next race_!” Bobby jabbed a tire towards the open doorway, pointing at the racetrack. “Can you imagine how pissed he’ll be if he– !?”

“ _SHH_!” Cal cut him off, his voice a harsh whisper. “ _He’s coming!”_

Taking that as their cue, both cars retreated into the garage, certain that the shadows hid them well. They waited.

Then they watched as one of their best racing friends in the world, Lightning McQueen, drove up to the garages, humming a country tune to himself as he went along. He found his own garage – the one directly parallel to the one Bobby and Cal were hiding in – and, never missing a beat in his humming, strolled in.

Not even bothering to hide his childish snicker, Cal cut the rope.

They heard a loud splash, layered over a wet and gargled shout. Then came the sounds of sputtering and spitting, and Bobby couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing just as Cal did, right as McQueen drove out of his garage.

McQueen spotted them collapsing into giggles, appeared to put the pieces together, then shot his two friends a look of faux hatred.

“Oh. _I_ see,” he yelled in a monotone voice, _“I_ see what’s goin’ on here!”

He was covered in a mix of purple and blue paint, courtesy of the tarp that’d fallen on him just seconds ago. Small, yellow paper flowers dotted his frame, making him look as if he belonged in a bad children’s cartoon. He would probably just scare children away, Bobby decided, seeing as he had on a permanent scowl as he stared at him and Cal.

McQueen slowly shook his cab as Bobby and Cal approached him, spreading his tires as if to say _“I actually can’t believe this right now”._ “…Wh– ” he said, “…Just… What was…?”

Cal cackled and gave McQueen’s fender a friendly shove. “Gotcha, buddy! I got you _good_!”

McQueen just blinked at him, his lips turning upwards like he wanted to laugh but wasn’t sure if he should. “…Are you kidding me right now, Cal?” he asked in that same monotone voice as before, “Are you… _actually kidding me_ , dude…?”

Bobby chuckled and scraped some of the paint off of McQueen’s side with a tire. “Hey, I tried to talk him out of it,” he said, “I told him to wait till the end of the race, but– ”

“Oh, the– _till the end of the race_!” McQueen hollered, though he was laughing too. He shook out his back tires, spraying globs of paint behind him. “So you guys were going to turn me into a washed-up clown _regardless_!”

Cal snickered. “Hey, it’s alright, man,” he said. He gestured with his tire. “We’ve only got fifteen minutes till the race anyway. Just go off to the washes, you’ll be fine!” He nudged McQueen’s fender then, grinning as if he were about to tell the worst joke in the world and he knew it.

“…You _are_ fast enough to do that, eh Lightning?”

McQueen froze in the middle of shaking out his front tire. Then he slowly turned to Cal, shooting him yet another glare. A tight-lipped smile spread across his grill.

“…You know, sometimes I really hate you guys…” he said.

Bobby and Cal promptly cracked up.


End file.
